


Always Prettiest After the Fall

by TQ121



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Manipulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 12:50:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14081307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TQ121/pseuds/TQ121
Summary: Timothy Lawrence's life sucks. His job sucks, he is neck deep in student debt, and lives with his emotionally abusive mother.He spends most of his time seconds away from a panic attack, but there is one good thing in his life.Little does he know that one good thing, his boyfriend Rhys, is a demon.





	Always Prettiest After the Fall

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the Borderlands Reverse Bang!
> 
> I had a wonderful time working with hyperioncompanyman to make this fic for their wonderful rhysothy art.
> 
> Make sure to visit them at http://hyperioncompanyman.tumblr.com/

The giant tv’s glow bathed Rhys, as he lay sprawled across the couch. He ate from the bowl of popcorn in his lap, and the the man on screen begged the women in a coma to wake up. Rhys slowly leaned in as the man on tv confessed his love, and then the woman’s eyes cracked open.

Suddenly Tom Jones interrupted by loudly singing  _ What’s New Pussycat _ .

Rhys startled and flipped the bowl out of his hands. Popcorn flew in every direction.

Tom Jones continued to sing, and Rhys glared at the tv and snapped his fingers. The soap opera froze with the man staring in melodramatic shock.

He then grabbed his cell and sat cross legged while floating a foot above the couch as if he forgot about gravity, and waited a beat until Tom Jones sung, “I’ve got flowers.”

With a swipe of his thumb Rhys purred. “Hello, Timothy.”

With a broken hitch to his voice Timothy answered. “Hey Rhys.”

Something like consern cross Rhys’ face, and he leaned into the smartphone in his hand. “Something wrong?”

“I wanted to know if I could come over and stay the night.” Timothy answered in a hushed voice.

The concern on Rhys’ face turned into a pleased smile. If phones still had cords he would have been weaving it between his fingers in anticipation. “Of course, babe. You’re always welcome here.”

“I know its late but… I am? I mean.”

Rhys laughed gently. “You’re my boyfriend. I always want you here.”

A tentative laugh answered Rhys back. “I guess I am, but it's late and I didn’t know if you had any plans...”

“I was just planning on relaxing in my tub, but its so big that I get lonely.” Rhys fake lemented. “It would be much more fun to soak with you.”

What ever was souring Timothy’s mood seemed been replaced by his innate shyness.

“Your tub is really big.”

Rhys’ grin lost its predatory edge. “How about you head on over, and I get the tub set up.”

“Alright.” Timothy answered back. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Love you.” Rhys answered back before turning off his phone.

His mask of care melted from his face, and Rhys stepped down from where he floated above with mild annoyance.

Rhys surveyed the mess he had made and kicked a piece of popcorn. For a brief moment he entertained the quant idea of cleaning up the human way, but then snapped his fingers and the popcorn and bowl disappeared. It was strange to play human, and at times fun but other times boring. His clothing had to be less extravagant and claws, horns, and teeth hidden, but dating and the games human’s played with one another was becoming a favorite past time of Rhys’.

His disguise was so good not even the most supernatural savvy people realized his true nature, and Timothy who had seen Rhys in many states of mind had only ever caught glimpses of Rhys’ eyes glowing a golden color.

Timothy never seemed to notice how unnatural his eyes looked, but was merely taken with how pretty they were. It was funny how much humans didn’t want to admit what was right in front of their faces, and Rhys laughed thinking about it as he cleaned the front room with little thoughts that banished the dust and debris. It wouldn’t do for Timothy to know Rhys literally had no care about messes in this apartment.

It wasn’t his comfy lair on the Seventh Circle after all, but as everything in Rhys’ life appearance was everything.

 

* * *

 

“Love you,” Timothy whispered shyly into his phone, but he was too late. Rhys had already hung up, and Timothy turned off the phone in disappointment. He still was unable to tell Rhys how he felt.

Sighing Timothy put his phone in his old ratty puff jacket and tugged down his black sports cap on his head. It was emblimized with Hyperion’s golden H, and the cap just like Timothy’s polo and khakis were infused with the smell of cheap processed hamburger and vegetable oil.

The buildings around him towered above in picture perfect majesty. The sidewalk was immaculate, and Timothy felt shappy compared to the perfect pristineness of where Rhys lived.

Hunched in on himself Timothy walked briskly down the street from the train station to Rhys’ building. The longer he walked the more he felt he didn’t belong in the now quiet downtown, but he already asked for refuge so it was too late to turn back now.

Even if it wasn’t Timothy didn’t know if he could stomach apologizing to his mother for doing nothing wrong.

The only comfort was it took Timothy only ten minutes to walk to Rhys’ building, and he was thankful that the doorman recognized him well enough that he wasn’t questioned as he entered.

His nerves only heightened as he walked into the opulent lobby to ridiculously over decorated elevators. Even the elevator music which was usually sleep inducing just grated on Timothy’s worn nerves.

Closing his eyes Timothy didn’t think about high up the elevator took him or how if a cable snapped he would fall to his death. It was the last thing he needed to think about when he already felt stretched thin to the snapping point.

After what felt like an agonizingly long time the friendly bell rung and the elevator doors opened.

Stepping out into the hall he felt just as intimidated as before. The doors were few and far between implying that the apartments were gigantic, and the hall’s classy monochrome decor seemed to judge Timothy as he approached Rhys apartment.

Timothy reflexively knocked on the door forgetting that Rhys had  doorbell. He then stood for an awkward second wondering if he should ring the doorbell since it was obviously what he should have done it start with, but now it seemed to late. The next few seconds felt like eternity was closing in on him, and that knocking was just another mistake in a long line of mistakes that started with Timothy’s birth.

Just as Timothy felt like this was it, he was going to finally break down and it was all thanks to a doorbell, the door opened to reveal Rhys wrapped up in an impossibly fluffy blue bathrobe.

“Tim!” Rhys launched himself at Timothy and hugged him tight.

Timothy hugged Rhys back, and marveled at how impossibly good it felt to hold him after such a bad day. Despite the momentary joy it didn’t take long for self consciousness to settle in. Rhys always smelled like fresh lit matches, sulfurous and warm, but Timothy knew he smelled like a gross deep fryer.

Nervously he pulled back. “Thanks for letting me come over at such short notice.”

Rhys just snorted and pulled Timothy into the apartment. As always his grip surprisingly strong, but his hungry smile held too much alure to fight it. “We’re boyfriends, don’t act like its weird for you to visit me late at night.”

“I guess” Timothy nervously rubbed the back of his head, and his cheeks litup highlighting his freckles. He still could hardly believe that Rhys wanted him as his boyfriend let alone admit it so loudly.

Rhys unaware of Timothy’s self depreciation unzipped Timothy’s coat and started to pull it off him. It only turned Timothy redder, and he defensively slapped Rhys’ hands away. “Stop that! I can do it myself.”

Rhys laughed, and grabbed Timothy by the collar and pulled him into another kiss. “I want to take a bath, and you're still dressed.”

Exasperated Timothy momentarily forgot his worries and sighed. “Bossy.”

Rhys walked backwards smiling wider and wider, as he motioned Timothy to follow. “You like it.”

“Keep telling yourself that and it might come true.” Timothy joked back, but he was fooling no one. He was completely smitten with Rhys..

He slipped off his coat exposing his black work shirt and toed off his shoes before going any further into the apartment. He tossed his coat and hat on a chair, and followed Rhys, who had a sexy sway in his step, to his ridiculously large bathroom.

Rhys had stopped at the linen closet, and shamelessly pushed Timothy into the bathroom.

Steam assaulted Timothy, and it cut right into the chill and aches in his body. The lights were dimmed and a combination of lavender and vanilla candles were lit around the spacious tub full of steaming water. The room was warm and intimate and Timothy eagerly took off his shirt and dropped his pants before Rhys came back.

When he did he held a large bath bomb in his hand that had swirls of purple, pink, and blue and it sparkled in the dim light.

Timidly Timothy covered his dick, feeling shy once more even as Rhys tossed the bath bomb into the water and slid off his robe.

Rhys had no qualms being naked and hung his bathrobe on a hook, and once again Timothy was amazed at Rhys’ handsomeness. It didn’t matter how many times he looked on Rhys he was the most attractive man he had ever met, and for some reason he was dating Timothy.

Rhys smirked at Timothy and pulled his hand away from his crotch. “I’ve seen your dick how many times and your still shy?”

Timothy ducked his head down blushing as the lavender scent penetrated his senses as the bath bomb bubbled away. “It's not the same.”

“Don’t be silly.” Rhys teased, and tugged until Timothy followed him to the bathtub. “You look just as dashing as you ever do.”

“Oh jeez, thanks.” Timothy said, and watched as Rhys delicately dipped his toe in the water.

Rhys sighed, and Timothy couldn’t tell if it was in annoyance or in pleasure from slipping into the hot water. “Is it that hard to take a compliment?”

“Yes,” Timothy answered dryly to hide the truth of the answer. “Especially when I spent all day in fast food hell.”

Rhys settled fully in the tub and even as he sprawled out there was more than enough room for Timothy to join. He held out his hand to Timothy and said. “Stop being stubborn and get into the tub.”

“Bossy.” Timothy complained, but took Rhys’ offered hand.

As soon as he stuck the first foot in and felt the hot water hug his sore foot, and Timothy forgot about being stubborn or fighting it. Unable to feel steady holding Rhys’ hand he took hold of the bathtub and slowly sunk in feeling his overly tense muscles relax.

When he settled chest deep into the water he couldn’t help but let out a groan of relief. “Oh, where have you been my whole life?”

“You know, around.” Rhys answered smirking.

Cracking open an eye as Timothy relaxed across from Rhys he corrected, “I’m talking to the bathtub.”

“I know.” Rhys answered, and there was a golden twinkle in his eyes that had to have something to do with how the candle light reflected in them.

Timothy snorted and sunk a little lower into the water because he could. Their legs tangled together, and Rhys shifted so that his foot gently rubbed its way up Timothy’s thigh. He cracked his eyes open, and Rhys was smirking in a way he probably thought was sexy but instead made him look like a dork.

It was terribly endearing, but the warm bath and the gentle intimacy of it all made him much more interested in falling asleep. He ducked his head down and his hair fell loose into his eyes. He needed a haircut that he couldn’t afford, and it felt gunky from being hidden under the cap at work all day.

Rhys though had something other than cleanliness on his mind if the foot that now pressed against Timothy’s dick said anything.

Shyly Timothy jumped back and his cheeks flushed. Water splashed as he protectively covered his groin, and Rhys just raised an eyebrow.

“I, umm I don’t know how to say this, but I’m really tired and I had a fight with my mom.” Timothy couldn’t believe he was saying no to such and obvious offer from his hot boyfriend. The same hot boyfreind that was obviously slumming if he wanted to go out with Timothy.

When Rhys only looked at him with wide eyed concern Timothy tried to sink down into the purple bath water. “I’m just not in the mood.”

Timothy closed his eyes waiting for some kind of verbal backlash, but instead felt Rhys’ hands on his leg. For a brief moment he wondered if Rhys was going to take it as a challenge and try and convince him, but the touches were gentle and more soothing than anything.

Slowly he opened his eyes, and Rhys was watching him as he pulled Timothy’s right foot out of the water.

“I don’t know why you are so afraid to tell me your not in the mood.” Rhys told Timothy, as he dug his thumb into the bottom of Timothy’s foot.

Timothy gasped as tension started to ease out of it. He would never admit it but that moment of relief was better than any sex he had ever had.

Rhys continued working on that muscle. “But I can tell you that you don’t have any reason to be afraid to tell me no.”

A low whine left Timothy as Rhys pushed in another spot on his foot that truly hurt, but a second later something released and he inhaled in relief. Rhys was probably not being as gentle as he should be giving the foot rub, but Timothy couldn’t argue with the results.

His shoes were cheap and gave no support, and he he only got his lunch break during his 8 hour shift. He had contemplated buying new insoles, but he had his student loans looming over him like a cloud and his mother had started demanding rent.

“Hey!”

Timothy looked up unaware that he had closed his eyes, and Rhys had an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face.

“Did you get that?”

Dumbly Timothy shook his head. “Sorry, no.”

“I should tickle your feet instead.” Rhys threatened.

“No!” He jerked his foot back defensively.

“Then listen to me.” Rhys said slowly. “Repeat after me, I don’t have to worry about telling Rhys, my wonderful boyfriend, that I’m not in the mood.”

Embarrassed Timothy scrubbed the side of his face with his hand and mumbled, “I don’t have to worry about telling Rhys, my asshole boyfriend, that I’m not in the mood.”

Rhys scrunched up his face in a pout, and then shook his head. “Close enough.”

He then lowered Timothy’s foot back in the water, and then pulled his other foot up. The glitter from the bath bomb cling to Timothy’s skin making the candle light dance against it. “Now tell me what upset you so much today that you came running here at midnight.”

Timothy wanted to protest, but the way Rhys pushed into his foot with his fingers was a compelling argument. “Fine, I had another fight with my mom.”

Rhys made a face like Timothy had just shit in his hand. “What was it this time?”

“The same old same old.” Timothy answered. “Why don’t I get a good job, I’m a lousy good for nothing, combined with why am I never home.”

He grunted as Rhys pushed on another tender area, and then added. “Oh and she was extra pissed because I missed mass this morning. She doesn’t think work is a good enough excuse when you’re a “sinner” like me.”

Rhys raised an eyebrow at the sinner comment. “Mary Nagdalene obviously doesn't know what she is talking about if she is calling you a sinner.”

“Didn’t you know? Kissing boys is a sin,” Timothy snipped, “and she doesn’t even know that I’ve kissed other boys since I got caught in highschool.”

Leaning down Rhys kissed Timothy’s big toe, and gave him an earnest look. “Bring me to her, and I’ll show her what real sin looks like.”

“Oh god, I’m not letting her catch you with me she will never let it down.” Timothy answered feeling Rhys lower his foot back in the water.

With cat like grace Rhys pulled himself up, and crawled over Timothy in the bath. Steam wafted off his skin and he could feel the warmth coming off Rhys’ body.

He stared at Timothy with almost an inhuman level of intensity that filled Timothy with a strange combination of excitement and fear. “Move in with me then. I don’t like that you live with her abuse day in and day out.”

“It's not abuse.” Timothy countered defensively, “She’s just an old nag.”

Timothy’s stomach clenched at the look of disbelief Rhys gave him that was lined with pity. “Anyway I don’t want to be a burden on you. You do to much for me already.”

Rhys rolled his eyes and sighed with defeat. Gently he lowered himself onto Timothy’s lap, and threaded his fingers in his hair. “You have never been a burden, babe. Everything I give you I give not only freely, but with pleasure.”

Frowning Timothy lowered his head, and Rhys started gently massaging his scalp. “If you say so.”

“If anyone knows themselves its me.” Rhys answered, and continued dancing his fingers in circles around Timothy’s scalp. “Just let me take care of you.”

Timothy whined like a scared puppy the sudden feeling of vulnerability. “I’ll try.”

“Good,” Rhys praised, and kissed the crown of Timothy’s head. “Now let me wash your hair, and we can go to bed.”

 

* * *

 

 

Days later Rhys relaxed staring down at the city from above. He watched the busy little insects buzzing around in their insignificant lives absolutely convinced they meant something.

Rhys if he was generous might consider them cattle. A source of food and wealth was definitely a kinder way to look at humanity. It meant he had a reason to cultivate their well being instead of just mindlessly squashing them out of boredom.

Instead Rhys lounged in mid air dressed to the nines in black and gold clothing. Like an irritated cat he flicked his tail back and forth before curling it into loops in bored movements. His hand propped his head up, even though nothing but air was beneath his elbow, and it fit between his head and front facing horns.

Grunting he rolled over onto his back and snarled. People watching wasn’t showing any signs of being distracting from the subject of Timothy. Folding his hands behind his head he looked up at the clouds and hoped they would prove more entertaining.

They didn’t.

“There you are.”

Rhys bent back in half to see the source of the voice.

Floating with a stack of files was a small imp with fuzzy goat legs, a thin whip like tail, and a pair of tiny horns. He looked like a small brown version of the red devil imagery humans once found appealing, but his goatee was softer looking and less sinistar and his expression much less seductive and teasing. He gave off an aura more reminiscent of an annoyed mother than a playful devil who has come for your soul.

Somersaulting in the air Rhys landed cross legged so he was eye to eye with the smaller demon. “Vaughn, how’s it going.”

“Rhys, I can’t keep the bureaucrats off your back forever.” Vaughn greeted and opened up one of the folders to expose a pile of paperwork. “You still haven’t filled out the appropriate paperwork for killing Vasquez 50 years ago, let alone the paperwork explaining why your numbers have been down.”

“What no hello, for you best bro?”

Vaughn glared in disapproval unwilling to respond to Rhys’ distraction tactic.

“Ugh,” Rhys groaned, “Look you know I want quality over quantity in my soul gains, and without Vasquez shitting in my shoes I’m going to concentrate on doing what I really want.”

Vaughn shoved the folder in Rhys face and pushed a golden quill in his hand. If looks could kill Rhys would have been slapped. “Just sign this. I already got the paperwork for Vasquez done for you.”

“Thanks, bro,” Rhys smiled like he had won, and quickly signed on the dotted line.

“I can’t believe you still don’t read what I shove at you.” Vaughn, snorted as he flipped through the paper work for the next page. “Initials here, and here, and sign here.”

“That's because you’re the best and wouldn’t sneak something in.” Rhys answered, and did as instructed with his overly extravagant handwriting.

Vaughn’s lip twitched, and he said as he looked to make sure Rhys signed in the right place. “And that's how I got complete control of your assets.”

“And you take care of them better than I ever would.” Rhys countered, and signed more documents for Vaughn.

The continued on until Rhys’ hand was sore, or it would have been if he was a mortal. After they were done Rhys stretched and groaned. “This is why I can’t stand paperwork.”

“Yeah well if you don’t start bringing in souls again soon they are going to give you worse than paperwork.” Vaughn warned Rhys pointing the quill at him in a way that wasn’t threatening at all.

“You don’t understand.” Rhys whined and looked back down on the population below them. “It's gotten so boring I need a challenge.”

“Well find a challenge faster.” Vaughn pushed Rhys on the shoulder. “When you’re not performing the sharks down their start to get on my tail too.”

“It is too cute of a tail to let it get bitten.” Rhys agreed, and smiled at his friend.

Vaughn held his tail, and rubbed the flat spade shaped end. “It is, and that's why you need to pick it up. I can’t hold them off forever.”

“Yeah well I’ve got a big fish on my hook so don’t worry about it.” Rhys casually said, and his smile widened to show off his sharp teeth. “This is a real special one, sweet as can be, and born to suffer yet always remain faithful.”

“A martyr?” Vaughn asked scrunching up his nose. “That sounds like too much work for not enough gain.”

“Yeah well, Timothy is special.” Rhys insisted. “I mean yes he is marked as a martyr for heaven's own sadistic reasons, I still don’t get it, but he is so amazing, Vaughn. I think I can turn him into a demon.”

“Well that would get them off your back, I guess.” Vaughn sounded doubtful and frowned. “But what are the chances that you can corrupt someone destined for the heavenly choir.”

“He’s in love.”

Vaughn looked at Rhys doubtfully. Rhys on the other hand grinned gleefully.

“The last I checked being in love wouldn’t get you sent to hell, Rhys.”

Rhys shook his head, “He isn’t just in love, bro. He’s in love with me, and god I want him. I want to keep him so bad, Vaughn. He is going to look so good at my feet when I finally get his soul. I’ll have to change some of the decor to match his eyes, and that might be a bit of a hassle. Timothy has heterochromia so I’m going to have to get things to match both blue and green.”

Vaughn scrunched his nose in disgust while Rhys gushed. “You sound like Vasquez when he was after you.”

“Don’t compare me to Vasquez.” Rhys hissed eyes narrowing. “I won, and it’s his horns that decorate my mantel places.”

“That's not what I meant, Rhys.” Vaughn rubbed the bridge of his nose, and shook his head. “You’re acting creepy and possessive.”

“We are demons, bro.” Rhys reminded him flipintly. “You’re just jealous that I’ve found someone shiny and new.”

“Maybe,” Vaughn’s cheeks heated, but he shook his head. Rhys was trying to derail him again. “It doesn’t matter because you need to bring in that guys soul or a whole bag of souls in sooner rather than later.”

“Fine,” Rhys groaned and flopped onto his back. He looked up to the clouds ignoring his friend.

Vaughn waited a minute then another as time really didn’t mean much to them. Deadlines were more a looming presence that slowly consumed them rather than a time and place on a calendar. Rhys considered himself the kind of person who worked best when the pressure was on, while Vaughn did everything he could to be several steps ahead.

As the sun began setting Rhys suddenly asked. “Yvette is still in the US congress right? Posing as a lobbyist?”

Vaughn had settled into sitting next to his demonic brother, his back supported by Rhys’ crossed legs. “Yeah, it's still her favorite hunting grounds. Why?”

Rhys smirked and said. “Well I’ve got an idea how to put a little extra pressure on Timothy.”

 

* * *

 

Timothy scrolled down his laptop reading an article about the new changes to how they would deal with student loans. It was the fifth article he had read that morning, and he didn’t understand a word of the legaliese. He studied English in college not bullshit, but what he gathered was by next year when this went into effect he was fucked.

Signing he rubbed his dry eyes and the bridge of his nose. The weight of the overwhelming debt just felt heavier on his shoulders, and he wanted to melt into a puddle of misery and die.

He was just happy that his mother was out with the “girls” and not hear to nag at him about what a failure he was, and how if he studied something useful like engineering he wouldn’t be in this mess. At least it wasn’t possible to be nagged to death. If it was Timothy would have been rotting underground years ago.

Timothy knew thinking that all his mother did was nagging wasn’t fair to the other nags in the world. That was too blunt for her. She was more prone to passive aggressive behavior, and asking him what he was going to do about it for two hours on end.

He stared blankly at the article for another few minutes wondering how he was going to get the money to fix his life, before finally opening a word document. His book was never going to write itself.

He then spent the next ten minutes staring at the word document and while it was a change of scenery it didn’t help him any more than staring at the article. Timothy’s mind continuously drifted back to the new esoteric student debt laws, and he couldn’t focus on anything else.

For a brief moment he thought about asking Rhys for help, but then quickly dismissed it. People didn’t offer to help and mean it. It was just to be polite and it was his place to politely say no thank you. It was the way things like that worked.

So instead he tried to work on his book, and in the next half hour he rewrote the same paragraph ten times, each time more frustrated than the last when his phone buzzed with a text message.

_ Lunch? :) _

Timothy wanted to smile seeing Rhys’ random offer, but joy wasn’t willing to come. He honestly felt like a depression nap was in order, but remembering how his mother reacted the last time she caught him having one made him rethink it.

He also needed to work on his book. After all if he was ever going to be a published author he needed to actually write, but he had lost the drive and joy that writing gave him.

It seemed like the only time he felt like he was happy was with Rhys.

Finally he typed in.

_ I’d love to <3 _

Then after a moment added.

_ Nowhere expensive. _

It wasn’t a moment later that he got the response.

_ Your rich boyfriend is paying stop worrying about it. _

Timothy started to type back when the next message popped up.

_ Don’t you dare order the cheapest thing on the menu. I’m onto you. ಠ_ಠ _

A small smile graced Timothy’s face in spite of his melancholy. He knew no matter how hard Rhys tried to glare it always ended up being an ineffectual pout.

Rhys then sent an address before Timothy could respond, and Timothy shook his head while typing.

_ Bossy, I’ll head right over. _

_ You like it <3 _

 

* * *

 

Timothy stared at his phone’s map as he walked down the street completely bundled up. It was the awkward time of year where one day could be a balmy 80 degrees and the next -5. Unfortunately today was one of the colder ones as he tried to find the restaurant.

The address Rhys gave him was thankfully not in one of the richer areas that Rhys frequented, but several neighborhoods over were things started to look a little more run down.

He was honestly surprised Rhys would ever enter a neighborhood like this.

When he found the address any fear that Rhys was going to over do it again was put to ease. The restaurant was a hole in the wall with a sign that in faux greek lettering said Acropolis.

As he opened the door the bell rang, and Rhys was leaning over the counter talking to the beautiful woman with black hair. They laughed like old friends, and something dark bubbled in Timothy’s stomach.

Before he could think about the his jealousy Rhys turned around and gave Timothy a wink.

“There you are.” Rhys was wearing a perfectly fitted suit, and walked over to Timothy for a hug. “I was beginning to wonder if you were lost.”

Before Timothy could say anything in response Rhys gave him a gentle kiss on the lips.

Timothy blushed still unprepared for Rhys’ open displays of affection. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Rhys mirrored back, and grabbed Timothy by the hand to lead him to a table with a bottle of red wine.

Expertly Rhys poured the wine out for both of them, and then held his own glass up to smell it in a way that was practiced. Timothy awkwardly lifted up his glass to his nose, and sniffed his.

It smelled like wine.

Rhys took a danty sip, and Timothy mimicked him. To Timothy’s disgust but not his surprise it tasted like wine.

Rhys laughed and shook his head. “There is water too, babe.”

Gratefully Timothy set down his glass, and took a deep drink of the water. 

Rhys snickered, and Timothy defended, “Look its not my fault wine tastes bad.”

“I’ve got to mature your pallet, Timothy.” Rhys insisted. “Maybe I should start you on a more beginner friendly white wine and get you a nice bottle of riesling sometime.”

“You don’t need to do that.” Timothy said. “I’m happy with beer.”

“Maybe,” Rhys frowned thoughtfully. “I guess I could find nice microbrewery with a tour and take you there.”

“Really the cheap stuff is good enough.” Timothy argued feeling uncomfortable that Rhys kept suggesting things that was out of his budget. It wasn’t like Timothy was big on drinking anyway, and the good stuff was always a waste on him.

Rhys’ eyes twinkled an inhuman gold color. “Good enough is not what I want to get you, Timothy.”

The urge to hide grew strong in Timothy, and he was finding it harder and harder to resist Rhys after months of little gifts. “I don’t want to turn into a spoiled cat.”

“I wouldn’t mind having you laying in my lap purring.” Rhys admitted as his lips curled into a smirk. “You’d like it. I’d keep you fat and happy for the rest of your life if you let me.”

It was tempting. Timothy could see himself being Rhys’ sugar baby, or whatever Rhys was suggesting but guilt held him back. He really wasn’t doing anything to earn that kind of care and attention, and Rhys was too good for him.

“You know I can’t.” Timothy argued. “You give me so much, and I can’t repay you.”

“You don’t need to repay me.” Rhys insisted, and surreptitiously slid his hand over Timothy’s to give him a squeeze. “I’ve got money coming out the ears. What's the point of dating a rich boyfriend if you don’t take advantage of it?”

“I’m not dating you, because you’re rich. I’m dating you because I lo-”

Timothy was interrupted mid confession when the woman Rhys had been talking to came out with a plate full of dolmas.

“Here you go, boys.” She announced and set it between them. “You’re lunch will be out soon.”

“Thank you.” Timothy answered back reflexively, while Rhys was already reaching out for one.

To Timothy’s embarrassment Rhys didn’t even use his fork to grab the grape leaf wrapped rice, and he held it in front of Timothy’s face.

“Take a bite.”

“You’re being weird.” Timothy argued and tried to duck away.

Rhys’ smile just broadened more, and he kept up with Timothy’s dodging keeping the dolma an inch from his lips. “Come on, babe. I’m going to keep this up till you eat it.”

“You’re terrible.” Timothy complained and tried to dodge one more time. Sighing he went ahead and bit into the dolma. His teeth pleasantly cut through the grape leaf, and the savory filling was quite good.

Rhys had an insufferable smirk as he popped the rest of it into his mouth, pleased as punch that he had gotten his way.

“I hope you’re happy.” Timothy grumbled.

“Very,” Rhys said around his mouthful, and then put another on Timothy’s plate this time.

He was using utensils as well, and Timothy was glad his eccentric boyfriend was now acting more normal.

“Don’t you worry about people, looking at you funny?” Timothy asked. “You know judging you for being weird.”

Rhys paused in the middle of cutting his food, and frowned. “No, why would I?”

Strangely Timothy’s heart sank. Just another thing him and Rhys didn’t have in common. “Never mind.”

“Hey, don’t be like that.” Rhys tapped Timothy’s foot from under the table. “We are the two handsomest guys in this city. We have no reason to think anyone is judging us other than to decide who has the nicer ass. Its me by the way.”

Timothy gaped just completely flummoxed that Rhys could be so confident, and shook his head. “People aren't that nice, Rhys.”

“People aren't as mean as you think they are.” Rhys responded back. “Don’t worry about them. Even if they do care they aren't going to be able to do anything to you when I’m around. I just want you to have fun.”

“I’m not good at having fun. I’m in too much debt,” He flinched mentioning that afraid Rhys was going to bring up helping finataly again. “I mean I have too much to worry about.” 

Timothy sighed. He cared for Rhys but he just didn’t get it. Rhys obviously had enough money that he never wanted for anything, and Timothy was sure one day Rhys would realize that he wanted someone worth more.

Rhys was now full on pouting. “I could get rid of half those worries with a wave of my hand you know.”

“Not this again.” Timothy pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course Rhys noticed his slip up. “I don’t want to be in debt with you.”

“You wouldn’t be in debt with me. I’ve got more than I will ever be able to use in four lifetimes let alone mine.” Rhys insisted, and leaned forward. “Let me help you, Timothy.”

Timothy wanted to protest and argue, but his pocket buzzed loud enough that he startled, and he reached into his jeans to pull out his old phone. Defeated he sighed when he looked at the number.

“I have to take it. Its my mother.” Timothy answered the phone, and put it to his ear.

“Tell her you’re too busy getting sodomized by your boyfriend to talk.” Rhys hissed, and for a brief moment Rhys’ pupils spit his iris in half like a snakes.

“Stop that!” Timothy scowled as he put his phone to his ear. “Hello mother.”

He paused listening on the other line and ignored Rhys’.

“Mrs. C why are you calling from my mother’s phone? Oh.” 

Rhys watched as confusion crossed Timothy’s face, and then the color bled from his cheeks. “Oh, I’m on my way.”

Shaking Timothy picked up his coat, and Rhys stood is annoyance switched out for worry.

“Whats going on?”

“One second,” Timothy covered the phone and turned to Rhys. “My mother has been taken to the hospital. I have to go.”

“Let me take you there.” Rhys offered, and pulled his keys out of his pocket.

“No,’ Timothy gave Rhys an apologetic look. “Not today. I’ll call you when I find out what's going on.”

“Timothy!” Rhys reached over to grab his hand, but Timothy slipped away and was jogging out the door.

Rhys stood impatient for a minute, before flopping into his chair at the table staring. His fingers tapped against the table, and he completely ignored the food.

“Seems like you’re lover boy got away again.” The owner came up holding both dishes of food.

Rhys’ seemingly human nails cut thin lines into the table cloth as he drew them back against it. “My plan didn’t work, Helen.”

“I can see that.” She answered back. Helen didn’t seem to care about how Rhys’ claws now gouged the wood of her table. “He doesn’t want material things, you know.”

“Yeah I know.” Rhys’ fingers drumbed louder, and his illusion disappeared. “I thought if I pushed him farther into financially worry he would finally start letting me help.”

Helen just shook her head. “Not everyone is like my great grandma, demon.”

“Few are.” Rhys smiled up at her fondly. “That reminds me. I owe a friend some baklava, whether the plan worked or not.”

“Demon’s are strange creatures you know that?” Helen asked rhetorically. Then with a shake of her head she disappeared in back.

It was only out of respect for her that Rhys didn’t flip the table.

 

* * *

 

Timothy rushed into the ER with a visitors badge hanging off his coat, and stopped when he saw his mother laying on the bed white as a sheet. Tubes were hanging out of her nose and mouth, and the room was full of beeping machines.

They told him it was a massive heart attack.

He was surprised his mother even had a heart.

He sat down on one of the uncomfortable chairs, and leaned over looking at his mother. Timothy wished she looked less scary on the edge of death, but now she just looked like a zombie from a horror movie. It felt like any minute she would sit up and attack.

Unsure what to do he waited staring at his mother as if it would help. It didn’t and after a while time stopped mattering until a nurse walked with a mobile computer desk.

“Are you her son?”

Timothy nodded. “Yeah, I’m Timothy Lawrence.”

“You’re mother is going to get a room, and I need you to fill out some paperwork, okay?”

“Yeah.” He answered mechanically without any inflection in his voice. Slowly they went through the questions and he answered the best he could.

“Does she have an advanced directive of some kind?” She finally asked.

“I don’t know. She tends to keep me in the dark.” He admitted staring down into his hands. “I’ll have to ask her attorney.”

The nurse gave him an odd look.

“She is kind of a bitch.” Timothy explained with an apologetic smile. “She never trusted anyone. Least of all me.”

 

* * *

 

Rhys sat on his couch his human illusion gone, and continued to tap his fingers in annoyance. He might have been able to reel Timothy in that night, but his mother had to get in the way again.

He didn’t like her. She was cruel to her only son, but that was common enough Rhys rarely cared about it. It was the fact that Timothy was her son, and Timothy belonged to Rhys.

She was getting to be a real thorn in his side, and now that Vaughn had made Rhys acknowledge the pressure from down below he could feel it tightening like a noose around his neck.

Rhys didn’t need to turn Timothy into a demon right away. His soul would be enough to give Rhys time, and then he would have all the time in the world. He just needed to make sure he got Timothy’s soul and the rest would follow.

Sighing Rhys focused his hellish magic through his arm, and with a small burst of light an image of Vaughn appeared before him.

“Bro, I need your help.”

 

* * *

It turned out his mother did have an advance directive with a do not resuscitate order. It made Timothy uncomfortable, but it was her choice after all not his. She may not have been the best mother, but she was all he had.

He really didn’t know what he would do without her.

The orders also meant she wasn’t hooked up to much in the hospital, and she was free of everything except some tubes helping push extra oxygen into her system. It relieved Timothy they at least we're doing something considering every breath she took sounded like windows rattling in a storm.

They said there was fluid in her lungs and heart, and it was like she was slowly drowning.

Afternoon turned to evening and evening to night, and no one had the heart to tell Timothy to go home.

Rhys had texted him to check if he was alright, and asked if Timothy could still meet him at the park for their six month anniversary. Timothy’s reply was quick despite him being in no hurry. He wanted Rhys by his side, but the fear of what would happen if his mother woke up was too strong.

He was always afraid, and eventually he fell asleep.

Timothy woke up to harsh laughter and coughing. His mother was looking at him with something like disdain.

His back hurt from sleeping in the hospital chair, and just seeing the look on her face made him want to shrink into nothingness.

Her lips curled into a cruel grin, and she whispered loud enough for Timothy to hear. “You are so pathetic, Timothy.”

As if god was mocking him the machine alarmed and she collapsed into a heap.

If it had been one of the cheesey soaps Rhys watched the doctors and nurses would have flooded in and pushed Timothy out of the way to save her life. But the do not resuscitate order had been well communicated, and the nurse just gently squeezed past to turn off the loud whine of the machines.

_ You are so pathetic, Timothy. _

Her last words echoed in his ears as the nurse gently touched his forearm.

“We can get the chaplain you.” She offered, and there was distant compassion in her voice. It wasn't her first patient to die, and it wouldn't be her last. For her it was just another Thursday, but Timothy just had his world shattered.

Slowly he shook his head. “No thanks, I, I think I'm just going to call my boyfriend.”

The nurse looked at him doubtfully. He felt like she was looking right through him. “We'll have someone talk to you after that. I know it's hard but it's better to get the paperwork all sorted out.”

Numbly Timothy nodded, and opened his cell phone.

Holding the old phone to his ear he listened as it rang and rang and went to voicemail. Frustrated he turned it off without leaving a message, and called Rhys again with increasing agitation.

Rhys still didn’t pick up. 

He always picked up.

Three calls later and Rhys hadn't picked up, and Timothy was hyperventilating, and staring at his phone in shock. Rhys had never not picked up his phone, and now Timothy was sure something bad had happened to him as well.

Breathing started to hurt, and the world seemed to swirl around him closing in and tightening around his throat. Collapsing in the chair he sat in as his mother died Timothy shook and sobbed as his skin grew too tight, and it felt like his flesh was trying to escape his skin.

The beeping of his phone cut through the ringing in his ears, and with shaky fingers Timothy checked the message.

_ Sorry, babe, work won't let me go for once. :( _

_ It’s okay.  _ Timothy lied.

He sobbed and rubbed his eyes. Rhys was okay, and his mother was right. He really was pathetic. Everything was fine and he made a big deal out of nothing.

_ I’m just trying to finish up here really quick so I’m not late for our date at the park. Then I’ll be all yours. :3 _

Tim couldn’t even bring up the energy to feel happy about the date. He was sure he was just going to bring Rhys down.

Timothy typed “My mom died. I need you.”

Instead of hitting send he deleted the words and replied.  _ I can’t wait. _

He already asked too much of Rhys. He just had to hold on a little longer, and maybe he could forget about things.

Like how his mother’s final words were to tell him how pathetic he was.

He didn’t even notice that his face was buried in his hands until he heard the clop of hooves, and he looked up. He looked at the short man’s shoes first, and realized that the boots must have been what had sounded like an animal’s feet.

Then he took in the kindly looking bearded man and his gentle smile.

“Are you, Timothy?” He asked holding out his hand. “I’m Vaughn. I know you said you didn’t need the chaplin, but the nurses were worried and asked me to come anyway.”

Timothy reached out, and shook Vaughn’s hand. It was surprisingly warm.

Inwardly Timothy cringed, and shook his head. “I’m not much of a religious man, chaplin.”

The smile he got in return felt surprisingly kind. “I’m not here to tell you who to pray to or why. I’m here to give you some comfort, and an ear if you need it. They told me you called your boyfriend. Was he able to help?”

Timothy shook his head. “He was too busy at work to pick up.”

“But he is normally there for you?” Vaughn asked looking interested as he pulled up a chair.

He got a nod in answer. “He is always there for me. He’s almost too perfect, always helping me and offering to help.”

“Is he self sacrificing?” Vaughn asked, “Are you worried he gives you too much of himself.”

Timothy shook his head. Rhys never seemed self sacrificing more the opposite. Rhys’ apartment was a thing of luxury, and Rhys had no problem telling people how he felt. Self serving was a more accurate way to describe Rhys, but he was always good to Timothy. “No he has the resources, and he is always the one offering, but I…”

“Let me guess, you don’t want to depend on him. You want to stand up on your own.” Vaughn offered.

“Yeah, but it's not just that.” Timothy admitted. “I don’t want to be a burden. I was already a burden to my mother, I didn’t want to be one for Rhys as well.”

Vaughn nodded sagely, and then asked. “Has he ever treat you like a burden?”

“No, he would never.” Timothy immediately defended without any thought. “He is better than that.”

Vaughn humed thoughtfully. “Then maybe he just wants to help you. Its normal to want to help those we love.”

Timothy looked down at his hands, and over at his mother’s cooling body. He wondered if it was normal for them to let him sit there with her like this. Or if they pitied him that much. His mother never seemed to want to help him, but Rhys didn’t like her just for that reason.

“Maybe,” He finally agreed, “but I don’t want him to be the one who is dong all the giving. I want to give back to him just as much.”

Vaughn smiled brightly, but there was something off to it. It reminded him when he woke up late at night and looked over to Rhys and he caught Rhys staring at him. It set Timothy’s teeth on edge, but then the smile turned into something softer and more kind. “Then ask him what you can do. He might be having as much trouble asking for help as you are.”

Timothy’s eyes widened. Rhys seemed to have everything put together. He never thought that Rhys might have something he wanted from Timothy, or that Timothy might have something to offer to Rhys.

“I never thought of that.” He admitted, and looked back over to his mother. She always let Timothy know exactly what she wanted. It was never a mystery, but Rhys was nothing like her.

Vaughn reached over and squeezed Timothy’s shoulder. “Think about it then. Communication is the most important part to any relationship.”

He nodded in response. It was definitely a new way to look at things. Frowning he gave his mother’s body another look. He didn’t want to be the pathetic being she always claimed him to be.

Vaughn’s eyes followed Tim’s, and he asked. “Do you want to talk about it. She is your mother.”

A calm settled over Timothy, “She was a bitch,” he laughed awkwardly, “I’m better off without her.”

He got an eyebrow raised at him, but to his own surprise he meant it. She had always been cruel at one level or another, and his panic stemmed from being alone. But maybe with Rhys he didn’t have to be. “I think I’d rather just leave and see my boyfriend.”

Vaughn nodded, and then reached into his jacket and pulled out a stack of pamphlets. “If that is what you want I can’t stop you, but take this information on grieving. Even if she wasn’t the ideal mother you may still want some help, and there are numbers you can call.”

Timothy politely took them, but he wasn’t sure he was actually going to read them. “Thank you.”

Vaughn stood up and turned to the body. “I’m going to give your mother her last rights if that is alright with you.”

Something in the air shifted, and Timothy got up as well. He was suddenly all to aware he was in the room with a dead body, and he didn’t want to be in  there any more. “Yeah, uh, I’ll leave you to that. I’m not one for religious ceremony.”

Vaughn’s smile seemed to show too many teeth, and Timothy found himself rushing out of the room blindly.

He got halfway down the corridor when he forgot why he was in such a rush.

Vaughn on the other hand smiled down at the corpse, and the kindly chaplin disguise melted away. He floated over her, and his whip like tail flicked with anticipation. “Oh Mrs. Lawrence you really were a wicked woman.”

From her body rose a wispy ball of energy that gave off pale blue cast. Vaughn held it gently between his clawed hands before his mouth seemed to unhinge and he slurped up the damned soul like jello.

 

* * *

 

Timothy waited on a bench in the park for Rhys. It was the same bench that Rhys had approached him at months ago and asked him out, and the romantic in Tim bubbled happily that Rhys would want to revisit the place they had met.

He had come a bit early fed by the surge of confidence that the chaplin had stoked in him. When Timothy thought it about it, it was strange that the chaplin addressed his relationship with his boyfriend over the relationship with his mother, but perhaps it just meant that the chaplin was good at reading him and wanted to promote moving on.

Or maybe he knew Timothy wasn’t ready to face his mother’s death yet.

Awkwardly Timothy pulled out one of the pamphlets detailing the stages of morning, and started skimming it as he waited.

He was halfway through, and wondering if all these stages were supposed to be seperate or if they overlapped when a shadow cast itself over him. He looked up to see Rhys dressed smartly in a suit and tie smiling down at him.

“Whatcha reading?”

Timothy tried to smile back up at Rhys but it felt forced. “Um some pamphlets I was given, my, uh, my mom died.”

Rhys’ face fluttered through emotions as if he was trying on different reactions searching for the most appropriate one. It was fascinating to watch, and just underlined to Timothy how much Rhys disapproved of his mother.

“I’m sorry, babe.” He settled on concerned and wrapped Tim up in a hug that crinkled the pamphlet Timothy held between them. “I guess that's why you called me so many times.”

Timothy dropped the pamphlet to the ground, and reached up to hug Rhys back. It felt natural to hug Rhys, like he belonged. “I missed you. I felt so lost when she died.”

He felt Rhys smile against Timothy’s neck. “I missed you too. You have no idea how boring business people are, Timothy, and now that I know I was humoring them when you needed me, well, next time tell me and I’ll toss them out on their ass.”

Timothy startedled a little as Rhys climbed into his lap to straddle him in public. It felt indecent and his cheeks heated up. “I, uh, I mean as much as I appreciate the sentiment you don’t have to. I know work is important and well I don’t want to get in the way.”

Rhys put his hand over Timothy’s mouth and rolled his eyes. “Stop saying stupid things, Timothy. Work is just a hobby. You on the other hand are not.”

Timothy met Rhys’ possessive gaze. It made the hair on the back of Timothy’s neck stand on end, but at the same time it left a warm feeling in his stomach. The warmth and chills he got seemed to meet in between and swirl into an almost pleasant queasiness.

Slowly he nodded his understanding.

Rhys sighed, and pressed his forehead to Timothy’s. “I know money has been an issue plaguing you, but you don’t have to worry about that with me. I want to keep you safe and comfortable, but you won't let me.”

Frustration bled into his voice, and Timothy felt guilty. It was like the chaplin said, he had never thought about how refusing the offered gifts made Rhys feel. He needed to ask, but Rhys’ hand was still over his mouth.

He knew only one way to get it off.

Disgust bloomed across Rhys’ face, and he jerked back his hand from Timothy’s mouth.

“You licked me!” He accused before wiping his hand on Timothy’s coat. “That's so gross.”

“You like it when I lick other places.” Timothy joked, and then his cheeks grew even pinker.

Rhys thankfully ignored his lewdness as he was too hung up on being grossed out. “Thats different, Tim. You are supposed to lick those parts. This was just gross.”

“Well, I wanted to say something, but if you think I’m gross I’ll keep it to myself.” Timothy threatened like a child.

Rhys perked up and then smiled. “I like it when you’re playful.”

Timothy rolled his eyes. “You seem to like me when I’m anything.”

“I do.” Rhys admitted.

“You’re not supposed to agree to that.” Timothy complained, and then felt a little pang of guilt. Here he was playing with Rhys when his mother died just hours before. He bit his lip. He wasn’t going to let her drag him down even in death.

Rhys frowned down at Tim and nudged his chin up. “No sulking you were going to say something.”

“I,” Timothy started, and wanted to duck his head down again, “jeez, I don’t know how to say this, but you already do so much for me and I want to give back. What can I do for you?”

Rhys blinked in confusion, before smiling down at Tim like a pleased cat. “You still don’t know how much you mean to me do you, babe. I have no need for material things or even grand actions.”

Timothy’s face fell a bit. Then what could he do.

Rhys lightly patted him on the face. 

“None of that. I just want you, heart and soul,” Rhys then smirked playfully, breaking his serious tone, “and maybe your dick.”

“Rhys!” Timothy’s eyes bugged at Rhys’ brashness. “Not in public!”

Rhys laughed joyously, and kissed the tip of Timothy’s nose.

Timothy pushed him away with a pout. “I’m serious, you give me so much, I want to give back to you.”

Rhys cocked his head to the side and hummed. 

“Well I’m serious too,” He smiled a bit and added. “Well maybe not completely serious about the dick part though its nice, but you have to know I’m possessive of you. Not only do I want to protect you, but I want you to be mine.”

The air felt colder around Timothy, but Rhys in his lap just seemed to get hotter. Timothy’s throat felt tight, but despite the discomfort part of him craved it. “I already am.”

“Not officially.” Rhys pouted crossing the line between childish and seductive.

Timothy’s mind raced with what Rhys ment. They had been dating for over half a year, but it felt like they met on this very bench yesterday. His mind could only come up with one thing Rhys could mean, and it didn’t scare him like it should.

Rhys admitting he was possessive and suggesting what Timothy thought he was suggesting should have set off alarm bells in Timothy.

So should have the way everything froze around them. Even a songbird 10 feet away was frozen mid take off.

Yet despite it all Timothy just felt the need to be close to Rhys.

“Do you mean get married?” He asked.

“No,” Rhys sighed and slid off Timothy’s lap.

“I mean I wouldn’t be against it.” He added before Timothy could  feel rejection. “What I want is so much more, but you don’t seem to get it.”

Rhys held his right hand up dramatically and said. “I guess I have to show you.”

The air around Rhys shimmered, and a deep low sound sent vibrations through Timothy’s body.

The world around them went black, but not an infinite darkness. Soon the walls and floor had golden glowing lines racing through it.

Timothy still couldn’t look away from Rhys.

The air continued to shift and spread as the illusion disappeared. Rhys hands turned into black armored gauntlets with clawed tips and the suit jacket stretched into a black open tailcoat. His shirt beneath was honey gold with his high waisted dress pants with parallel gold buttons and bold gold stripes.

The whole outfit was either a black so dark it absorbed all light or gold trim that seemed to glow.

It was beautiful and gaudy all at once, but it didn’t pull attention away from Rhys’ forward pointing horns that curved like a maronesa bull’s. Nor did it distract from how Rhy’s massive strong tail now curved around Timothy’s waist and pulled him up out of the bench and closer to him.

Rhys reclined back, lifting his feet up and laying mid air in a reclining venus pose, and said. “I can give you everything you ever wanted, Timothy. All your debt gone, a beautiful home, the freedom to write the book of your dreams, all of this is at your fingertips. All you have to do is give yourself to me. Give me your soul, and I can make all your cares and worries go away.”

 

Art by [hyperioncompanyman](http://hyperioncompanyman.tumblr.com/)

Emotions welled up inside Timothy. Fear and anger were there as well as a sickly feeling of hope, but most strongly was the disappointment and aching feeling of inadequacy. Disbelief was the strongest feeling of them all and forced him to ask. “What are you? A demon?”

Rhys shrugged lazyly, and his eyes glowed in the way Timothy had thought was a trick of the light before. “Devil, demon, either work.”

His tail squeezed Timothy almost like a hug. “It doesn’t really matter what you call me or my kind. Though I would argue we are much maligned.”

Every good feeling Timothy had felt turned to lead in his stomach. He wiggled to break free from Rhys’ tail’s strong hold, and stumbled back surprise as Rhys let him go. 

“So you were playing with me?” He accused his old doubts creeping up with avengence. “Was this all some trick to get to me? My soul? For some dumb money and material things?”

Rhys frowned as he watched Timothy get worked up. This wasn’t what he wanted at all.

Rhys clicked his teeth, and stood up floating down to Timothy’s level. His clawed hands cupped Timothy’s strong jaw, and his thumb scratched his goatee. “Look at me, Timothy.”

Timothy jerked back, and deliberately looked away. Anger now seethed but instead of it being aimed at Rhys it went inward as he questioned how he could be so stupid. He knew there was a catch there always was. No one would love him so easily.

Clawed hands grabbed Timothy’s jaw again, and yanked him to face Rhys. “Look at me!”

“You dare assume so much about me! A being who has seen the rise and fall of empires! You assume because of what I am I only wanted to use you, and not keep and care for you.” 

“I never said that!” Timothy shot back unable to pull back from Rhys hold.

“Even if I couldn’t read minds, it's all over your body language.” Rhys’ lips curled into a snarl exposing razor sharp teeth. “I know you inside and out more intimately than any human could, and I’ve never rejected you. You are a flawed imperfect human. Weak and fragile, and yet you struggle on even when you like every other human will never make a true impact on the world. You are just an insignificant blip in time, and yet you struggle and fight even as it slowly kills you.”

Closing his eyes Rhys took a deep calming breath, and then with utter devotion said. “You are beautiful.”

Timothy froze. Too many words with too many conflicting meanings and Timothy’s heart raced on unsure of what to do. Rhys held Timothy’s gaze, and Rhys gave off a heat like a fire.

“I need your soul, Timothy.” Rhys growled, and his features seemed to morph more and more beast like. “You will die one day and your actions will be weighed, and heaven will take you. I won't let them.”

Rhys’ eyes burned and morphed from human to cat like slits and then melted into horizontal slits like a goats as he focused on Timothy. “Not even god can take you from me!”

Timothy shook terrified and sweating from the intense heat that built up around him. It was horrifying even if Timothy knew the word for Rhys was demon. Demons were fairy tales told to scare children into behaving, but this was like being pinned beneath a god demanding not just devotion but the giving up of Timothy’s entire being.

He opened his mouth to respond and all that came out was his cracked voice.

Rhys let him go, and pulled back. The air chilled Timothy’s sweaty body so much he just trembled harder.

Rhys stood on the ground and shrank smaller. His beast like features faded back into something more human, but Timothy could now point out the little things that were off. Rhys appearance was like a well worn suit, and as frazzled as Rhys was he was still more put together than Timothy.

Clawed fingers ran through Rhys’ hair, and he sighed. “Timothy, I can’t force you to give me your soul. Even if it wasn’t against the rules its beyond imoral. I need your consent, and I’m not going to force it from you not matter what people think about my kind. There is no point if you are not willingly mine.”

“I don’t want material things.” Timothy admitted. Instead of running away like he should Timothy wiped the tears from his eyes. He didn’t even know he had shed them. “All I wanted was to be loved, and seen as more than a burden.”

The look on Rhys’ face wasn’t quite compassion nor was it pity. It was something else and foreign perhaps not even a human emotion that Rhys expressed as he sashayed over to Timothy. This time Rhys took Timothy’s face in a much gentler hold. “I know. You are too sweet, Timothy.”

“Can you even love me?” He asked almost curious and hopeful. He shouldn’t be. Everything inside him was saying run far away, but the seed that was always inside him that Rhys had carefully nurtured started to germinate and it felt different.

It hungered for more than love. It wanted to be owned and protected in a way that humans wouldn't find healthy.

Rhys wasn’t human.

“I don’t know.” Rhys admitted, but his lips were kind as they brushed against Timothy’s. “I’m not sure what love is. Lust, greed, envy, and other such “sins” are much more familiar emotions.”

Timothy couldn’t help but kiss back as Rhys kissed Timothy again, and he couldn’t help but feel like he was being seduced.

“I do know I need you the way humans need air.” Rhys added. “ Demon’s are possessive, Timothy. We don’t have partners, we have slaves and toys. We play with people until they break, and despite a deep visceral urge to do that to you, I…”

Rhys closed his eyes, and pressed his forehead to Timothy’s and shared the air between them. “I want to take care of you, and let you have the freedom you need. I don’t know if that's love, Timothy, but it might be as close as I'll ever get.”

Rhys’ tail curled around Timothy holding him close. He could feel Rhys tremble beside him, and Timothy wondered when the last time was that Rhys was this emotionally exposed to someone. Tentatively Timothy held out his arms and embraced Rhys comfortingly. Rhys let his head fall onto Timothy’s shoulder, and his horns only dug slightly into it. He rubbed Rhy’s back unused to be the one providing comfort in the relationship. 

Logic screamed at him to runaway and never look back, but Rhys had become so important in his life he was almost as afraid to run as he was to stay. An impulse deep inside him told him to stay at the beat of his own heart.

Suddenly Rhys pulled back, and pushed his hair into place. He made an effort to put his clothing back in place and look more presentable before having his tail release Timothy.

A kinder look spread along Rhys features, and he said. “You don’t want any material goods, so let me offer you this. I will give you comfort when you need it, and freedom before it smothers you. I will give you a home where no one may harm you, but allow you the choice to fight your own battles within reason. I will care for you and cherish you from now until the end of time. You will get the little kindnesses life has denied you until this point, and all I need is your soul.”

Gracefully Rhys knelt and held out his right hand. “What do you say, Timothy?”

For a long moment Timothy paused. He should say no. He should have yelled no a hundred times by now but something held him off.

He looked down at Rhys on his knees and yet still just as powerful as before. He thought back to his mother spitting out how pathetic he was.

He really didn’t have anything to lose no matter what answer he gave, accept for one thing.

Rhys

Trembling he reached out and took Rhys’ hand in his.

Light filled the darkness and swallowed both of them, and Timothy for the first time saw what Rhys truly looked like.

It was beautiful.


End file.
